


Firsts

by flashforeward



Series: Errand Boy to Kings [3]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of firsts in Sean and Sebastien's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

The first time they meet, Sebastien is nervous beyond belief. This man is a _prince_. He might be a bastard, but he has still been acknowledged by the family, and that means something. Not only that, but he is also half hexenbiest. Sebastien has much to fear. But when the man enters the café, tall and broad shouldered, with a face that hints at nothing, Sebastien schools his own expression, stills his hands by wrapping them around his cup of coffee, and waits for Prince Renard to make the first move.

He crosses the room briskly, the soles of his shoes clicking softly on the wood floor, and takes a seat at the table, not bothering to remove his coat. Sebastien feels exposed, with his draped over the back of his chair. Renard studies him, scrutinizes his face, and Sebastien wonders what he’s looking for.

Finally, he speaks. “Why did they send you?” he asks. His tone is calm, conversational, but Sebastien still bristles at the words. He has worked hard for the resistance, making his way up in the ranks, gaining trust, getting closer to his goal. To _their_ goal. He will not be questioned by this… _bastard_.

He sits up straight, squares his shoulders. “I am well suited to the job,” he says. He gestures to himself. “I appear harmless, unassuming.” He did not have to be told this, but many of his fellow resistance members have commented on it – he is slight and quiet, easy to overlook. “I already have a position at the palace, as well,” he continues, “and it would be too dangerous to try and get someone else in.”

Renard is quiet for a minute, then he nods. “Fine,” he says. He stands, slips his hands into his coat pockets. “Wait for my instructions.” He turns around, his coat flying behind him as he walks out of the café. Sebastien relaxes, lets himself breathe a sigh of relief.

As first impressions go, it isn’t the worst. But Sebastien hopes he won’t have to meet with Renard in person too many more times – he’s cold and calculating and unnerving and Sebastien finds he fears him, if only just a little.

He lifts his cup and takes a sip of his now cold coffee.


	2. Kiss

The first time they kiss, it’s anything but sweet.

Sebastien was assisting with some breaking and entering, getting some supplies away from the royals, but it hadn’t gone to plan. They’d lost one member in the rush to get out, and Sebastien was one of many who had sustained injuries.

When he gets back to his apartment after his turn explaining what happened, he’s exhausted and just wants to fall into bed, but the bandages they put on him in the safe house need to be changed. And there’s someone sitting on his couch.

He automatically grabs the knife from the table by the door, but by the time he has it in his hand, Renard is already pinning him to the wall, woged, hexenbiest face glaring down at Sebastien and sending a shudder through him. “Drop it,” Renard growls. Sebastien lets his fingers slacken and the knife clatters to the floor. Only then does Renard let him go and step back. He’s breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with each breath.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sebastien demands, his voice pitched low and quiet, but shaking with his anger.

“Me?” Renard asks. “What about you?” He reaches out and grasps Sebastien’s shirt at the rip over his wounds. Renard pulls at it and the fabric falls open, revealing the bandages already stained with blood. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks, stepping closer, his fingers light on Sebastien’s skin as he carefully undoes the bandages. “If you go and get yourself killed, it’s all over.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastien says, indignant. “I was doing my duty.”

“Your duty is to do as I say,” Renard says, eyes flashing. The bandages are off now, falling to the floor, and Renard pushes Sebastian’s shirt and coat off as well, then takes his hand and pulls him down the short hall into the bathroom.

“I am more than just your errand boy,” Sebastien bites out, holding his arms up as Renard washes his wounds and carefully re-bandages them. There is more to the resistance than your family feud.”

Renard stands then, grasps Sebastien’s arm tight, his fingers digging in. He strides forward, backing Sebastien against the bathroom door, glaring down at him. “You think that’s all this is?” he asks. “You think all I’m here for is a petty family squabble?” He shakes Sebastien, and Sebastien winces, his breath catching, as his wounds stretch. Renard leans in close, his lips inches from Sebastien’s ear. “This is anything but petty,” he says.

Sebastien opens his mouth to apologize – he knows the stories, he knows the truth – but before he can say anything, Renard’s lips are on his. The kiss is harsh, almost painful, Renard’s teeth digging into Sebastian’s bottom lip. But Sebastien responds in kind, and only pulls away when his chest and stomach flare up with pain.

Renard steps back, alarmed. “I’m sorry,” he says, his face showing more emotion than Sebastien has ever seen, or ever thought possible. He reaches out and takes Sebastien’s arm, gentle this time. “Come on, you should get to bed.”

Sebastien lets Renard lead him to bed, but doesn’t even close his eyes until he hears the apartment door close and Renard’s footsteps descending the stairs.

When he finally begins to drift to sleep, he dreams of the kiss.


	3. Woge

“Is it true?” Sebastien asks. He and Sean have been meeting regularly whenever Sean is in Vienna – partially to keep Sean updated, partially for moments like this. Just the two of them, quiet, relishing in the illusion of safety. The war, the resistance, the royals all locked outside. At bay for now.

“Is what true?” Sean asks, but his expression betrays him – he’s been slipping more and more with Sebastien, is less careful to keep his face blank – and Sebastien can tell he knows.

Still, it is only fair that Sebastien ask outright. “Is it true that the royal blood is…,” he trails off, doesn’t want to say it. Clears his throat and looks up, meeting Sean’s eyes. “Is it true they are descended from Vlad Tseps Dracula?”

Sean looks like he’s going to get angry for a moment, then he breaths out a low sigh and nods. He lifts his head once more, his eyes on Sebastien’s, and he woges. But this face is different from the hexenbiest Sebastien has grown used to – Sean’s cheekbones are more prominent, looking sharper as the flesh pulls back. His eyes are ringed in red. His teeth grow into fangs.

For a moment, Sebastien is afraid. He almost pulls away, almost runs. Sean sees the hesitancy there and lowers his head, about to shift out of the woge. “No,” Sebastien whispers, stopping him. He reaches out a hand and trails his fingers along Sean’s jaw and cheeks, finding familiarity in the unfamiliar. “It’s all right,” he says.

And the woge drops and Sean leans forward and kisses him, a hard, sloppy kiss of relief.


End file.
